And Then There Were Dorks
by ChillyFries
Summary: Eon decides that the evil Bens need a little team bonding time before they help him take over the universe. Rating T for foul language.


**Warning, spoilers for And Then There Was Ben. I'd like to give a special thanks to Enzy (negaben on Tumblr) and everyone else in the tumblr Ben 10 fandom who helped me brainstorm ideas for this story.**

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><p><em>Today's the day.<em>

The basement door rattled on its hinges. Behind the sound of nails against wood was an irregular, rasping pant, which sometimes formed nearly coherent words—_today, today, today is the day._

The man in purple reached for the doorknob, but hesitated. He had dealt with that… _thing_ plenty of times in the past, but the circumstances were different now. It was usually curled up in an anxious ball on the far end of the cellar, muttering something inane while wedged between the washing machine and the old paint cans. Now it was muttering something inane right up against the basement door. Who could know what it would do?

The man took a deep breath and straightened his back. He was Eon, for goodness' sake. King of the Chronosapiens, Master of All Time. He could handle this freak. He pulled the door open and took a large step to the side, out of the line of fire.

The thing blasted out of the basement with such vigor that it tripped and stumbled onto its knees. Well, I suppose the correct term would be "his knees", as he was technically a human boy. He even had a name—Ben Tennyson—although it would be difficult for anyone who knew him before then to assign the name to this vile thing. He appeared to be little more than a skeleton shrink-wrapped in blotchy, puke-green leather. Eon could think of at least three alien species he'd label this creature as before human, but he had watched enough of this boy's deterioration to know the truth.

The thing that was at some point Ben Tennyson crooked his head upwards and looked upon the bright room with wide, curious eyes, but his yellow grin quickly faded into a meek gape. Agoraphobia set in, and he crawled backwards towards the door. He would have retreated back to his spot between the washing machine and paint cans if Eon didn't grab him by the collar of his straightjacket and hoist him to his feet.

"Not so fast, freakazoid," Eon said, pulling him in close. "Today's the day, remember?"

The creature whimpered and scanned the unfamiliar space. Blinding lights, hardwood floors, kitschy paintings of seascapes hung on the walls—it was nothing like the dank, comforting basement he had spent the last year in. It was all too much. He wanted to cry, but he knew that Eon didn't approve of uncontrolled emotional expression. He may not have known much, but he understood that upsetting Eon was always a bad idea. His head drooped in resignation and he allowed Eon to drag him into the next room.

The living room felt simultaneously lived-in and lifeless. The scratches on the floor spoke of hundreds of feet crossing the room over the years, and yet everything that wasn't a table or a couch was covered in a thin layer of dust, as if no one dared to touch them. Based on the brochures and take-out menus stacked on the coffee table, this place was a rental home. The room seemed exceptionally normal, until the present company was taken into account.

At first, there didn't seem to be anything unusual about the three boys sitting around the living room. Each of them had deliberately situated himself as far away from the other two as possible, forming the largest equilateral triangle that the space could hold. When Eon and Ben entered, all three of the boys went from staring at walls to staring at them, and suddenly Ben felt like he was looking in a mirror. They looked nothing like him, of course; their skin was smooth and a normal human color, their heads were full of hair, and a healthy layer of flesh separated their skin from their bones. Still, they all possessed a face that registered as Ben Tennyson.

The zombie-looking Ben knew full well who these others were, and the others knew who he was as well. Eon had filled them in on that much, at least. Every one of them was a Ben Tennyson, a wielder of the Omnitrix, each from a different universe. They had all known of their counterparts' existence since the beginning of their year-long training with Eon, but this was the first time any of them had met face to face.

The green skinned Ben glanced around nervously in search of a place to sit. From the looks of disgust on the other's faces, he could tell that none of them wanted to sit next to him; in all honesty, he didn't want to sit next to the others either. He settled on the floor in the center of the room, equidistant from his alternates. There was a long moment of near silence, only filled by the creature's harsh breathing, before one of the Bens spoke up.

"The fuck is that thing?" said the Ben on the leather armchair. He had a thick Australian accent, spiked-up hair that added half a foot to his height, and a repulsed sneer that he made no attempt to hide.

The black haired Ben sitting on the couch showed a little more polite restraint, but he still averted his eyes. "I think it's one of us," he said. His voice was slick, like poison sliding down someone's throat.

Green skinned Ben slapped his hand against the floor. "Me Ben!" he announced. That should clear things up.

No one responded. The third and final Ben never added a word, and simply hid behind hid dark hood and drooping bangs with a raised eyebrow.

Eon clapped his hands together. "Alright, now that everyone's here, you guys can all introduce yourselves. Maybe come up with nicknames or something, 'cause I'm not calling all of you Ben. I'll… get some snacks, I guess." He vanished into the hallway towards the kitchen, leaving the Bens alone together.

Most of them were probably expecting a long, awkward silence to follow, but Eon had told them to introduce themselves, and the green skinned Ben wasn't about to disobey an order. "Me Ben!" he repeated.

"Oh no," spiky haired Ben said. "There's no way in hell _you're_ going by Ben."

"I think I should be Ben," black haired Ben announced. "I'm the one who looks the most similar to Prime Ben, after all."

Spiky hair scoffed. "You think being like that fuckwit's something to be proud of?" He jabbed his thumb into his chest. "I'll be going by Ben, thank you very much. If any of you've got a problem with it, I'll kick your arse."

Black haired Ben stood, hand hovering by his Omnitrix behind his back. "Right, like some try-hard wannabe punk could be me in a fight."

Spiky haired Ben shot out of his seat with gritted teeth, but before he could make a comeback, green skinned Ben gasped so loudly that everyone stopped in their tracks.

"Punk!" he shouted, pointing at the spiky haired one. He had forgotten that word, but now that he remembered it he realized that this one fit the definition exactly.

Black haired Ben laughed. "See? Even the freak's on my side!"

The punk was seconds away from lunging to rip the other's throat out, but he was yet again stopped, this time from some rustling in the kitchen. Eon would be back any minute. He shot his counterpart a sharp glare—_we'll settle this later_—and collapsed back into his seat. "So what about you?" He gestured towards the hooded Ben. "You want to fight me for the name too?"

"Nah." He turned his head away dismissively. "Call me Nega."

Punk Ben, who had been preparing throw insults at this counterpart as well, found himself nodding with pursed lips. Not a bad nickname. Of course, he wasn't going to say that out loud. "And what do we call this one?" he said, pointing to the green-skinned monster on the floor between them.

The creature almost spoke up—his name was _Ben_—but so far everyone who had said their name was Ben got yelled at, so he bit his tongue.

"Freak?" Black-haired Ben suggested.

The creature's head slumped. If there was anything he hated being called, it was a freak, especially since he knew it was true. Nega picked up on the subtle motion.

"That's lame," Nega said. He stared at the green-skinned Ben intently and put his hand to his chin. "We're all freaks. He's just kinda… bizarro." And then it clicked. "How about Benzarro?"

"Ben… Benzarro," the creature said, testing the word out on his tongue. A massive grin swallowed his face.

"Bloody hell, man?" Punk Ben exclaimed. "How do you just name shit like that?"

Nega shrugged.

Eon returned, toting a plate of chocolate chip cookies and five glasses of milk. "Just so you know, I heard everything you guys said." He put the food on the coffee table, dunked a cookie in his glass of milk, and reclined on the second leather armchair between Nega and black haired Ben.

"Me Benzarro!" Benzarro cheered. He sounded like he wanted to go around and tell everyone in the world his cool new name.

"Yeah, yeah, you Benzarro." Eon brushed it off, turning his attention to the two unnamed Bens. "Anyway, since you two can't seem to agree on anything, you're getting stuck with my shitty nicknames." He pointed to the black haired Ben. "You're Bad Ben." His finger rotated towards Punk. "And you're Mad Ben."

Bad Ben grinned in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair. "I like it. I'm the baddest Ben here."

"More like you're the worst Ben here," Mad Ben said.

Bad Ben glared at the other, but Eon interrupted before a fight could start. "Alright, let's get moving. I've got places to be." He finished his cookie and stood with his arms behind his back, examining the boys like a drill sergeant examines his soldiers. "So, we all remember why we're here, right?"

"Yes sir," they all chanted in unison. Except for Benzarro, who simply let out an enthusiastic grunt.

Eon knew that they were all on the same page, but he felt the need to beat it into their heads anyway. "As iterations of Ben Tennyson, our fates are tied to the Omnitrix, the most powerful device in the universe. Therefore, we are destined to be the most powerful beings in the universe, and it goes without saying that we should be the ones in charge. Unfortunately some of our counterparts, including Ben Prime, have sided with the established power structures. The current order of things is not the natural order, and our purpose is to set things right. Once the Bens who have refused to join us are out of the way, we will take our rightful place as overlords of the multiverse, beginning a new era of prosperity."

As Eon spoke, all of the Bens leaned in, listening with wide eyes and open ears. They had all heard this rationale a thousand times during their training, but the idea was as titillating as ever.

"Now, these other Bens are usually seen as heroes, so people are probably going to think that we're the bad guys," Eon continued. "But that won't matter as long as you remember that evil is relative, and we're the ones with the bigger picture. The universe is going to be a lot better off once we're in charge."

"Then what are we waiting around for?" Mad Ben asked, pounding his fist into his palm. "We've done our training. Let's kick some arse!"

"We can't yet," Eon said.

"And why not?"

"Because space-time is complicated and annoying to work with," he answered with an edge to his voice. "There are variables out of my control, and I can't transport all of you to the final confrontation until things get sorted out." He took a swig of milk to cool down. "In the meantime, you'll all be staying here so you can get to know one another. You're a team, after all. You gotta work together like one."

Nega sighed, Bad and Mad Ben groaned. Eon ignored it. It wasn't like there was anything he could do about the situation.

"So, any questions?" Eon asked.

Benzarro threw a sleeve-covered arm into the air and waited for Eon to call on him. "Cookie?" he asked. Thus far no one but Eon had bothered to take a cookie for the tray, mainly because they weren't sure if they could yet.

"Yes, Benzarro, you can have a cookie," Eon replied.

Benzarro squawked with excitement and flopped over to the cookie tray, picking one up in his mouth and swallowing it all in one bite. His crumb-imbued saliva dribbled all over the remaining cookies. The onlookers watched in nauseated awe.

Eon almost asked if anyone else wanted one as a joke, but by the looks on their faces and the knots their stomached had undoubtedly twisted into, that would have been kicking them while they were down. Instead, he said something worse. "Whoever cleans that up gets to just be called Ben," he announced.

Big mistake. Bad Ben and Mad Ben both lunged for the coffee table, kicking Benzarro out of the way and grabbing opposite sides of the tray at the same time. After only a few seconds of tug-of-war, Mad Ben's hand slipped, causing the drool-coated cookies to go flying all over the floor. Without skipping a beat they raced to collect the debris, shoving each other in an attempt to make the other drop what they had picked up. Soon their task was forgotten entirely, and the Bens were left wrestling on the floor and punching each other in the face and gut. Meanwhile, Benzarro cowered behind one of the armchairs, occasionally peeking his head out to pluck a fallen cookie off the floor with his teeth.

Eon turned to Nega, hoping for at least a small glimpse of sanity within the chaos. The hooded boy was usually a pillar of stoicism, but even he now wore a surprised and horrified gape on his face. The poor boy didn't even have the faintest idea what they were in for, and he had already cracked.

Eon sighed. This was going to be a long year.


End file.
